


sick little games

by luckylikeyou



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Dates, M/M, Singer Dream, actor george
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:02:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29953137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckylikeyou/pseuds/luckylikeyou
Summary: Rising actor George is suddenly thrust into a fake relationship with rockstar Dream for publicity. It sounds impossible considering Dream’s hotheadedness and their clashing personalities, but George just reminds himself that he’s an actor. Pretending to date Dream is just like playing a role in a movie—at the end of the day, everything is just acting, and none of it is real.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 150
Kudos: 434





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone!!!! this work will be my second attempt at a multichaptered fic, so i hope it goes well :) this time its a fake dating au because that trope never gets old and i know a lot of people enjoy it!! the title is from the song "sick little games" by all time low which is a bit of a commentary on tabloid culture and getting caught up in celebrities' lives, so it's semi-related to this fic but also the song is just a banger. tags will be updated with each chapter uploaded, and i hope you guys enjoy!

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

George sits in his manager’s office, staring the man down with a flabbergasted expression. He just smiles back apologetically, folding his hands in front of him and looking back at George who is trying to find the words to articulate a sentence but failing.

“I’m not kidding. It’s what the higher ups wanted, and you know I can’t change their minds,” he says. “I wish I was able to help, but I’m not.”

George runs his hands over his face and up into his hair, ruffling it up in exasperation. “Karl, I can’t do this.”

He really can’t.

George hasn’t been in the acting industry for nearly as long as other seasoned actors, but he has earned his title as a rising star with his stellar performances. He’s been in a handful of hit movies and even worked with some pretty famous people, but he has tried his best to remain humble and pleasant to work with. Audiences love him, directors love him, and he assumed his agency loved him, but he might be mistaken.

George’s manager, Karl, had sent him a text to meet him in his office at the company building around noon, and George didn’t think too much about it at the time. He figured Karl was going to inform him about a new casting opportunity or something, but he never expected _this_. Karl sat him down with an apologetic look on his face and broke the news to him.

George’s agency decided that he is going to date Dream, a famous alternative rockstar, for publicity. George wanted to gag as soon as the words came out of Karl’s mouth. Of all people, fucking _Dream_? Loudmouthed, bitchy Dream with a bad reputation? George gets goosebumps thinking about Dream, and not in a good way. He wears heavy eye makeup, paints his nails black, wears torn up too-tight clothing, talks shit and goes wild on stage—the complete opposite of well-behaved good boy George.

“His company did this because they wanted to improve his appearance, and they just assumed what better person to stick him with than everyone and their mom’s favorite actor,” Karl explains carefully.

“So he gets to fix his reputation, what the fuck do I gain from this?” George crosses his arms and taps his foot. He can feel a headache forming.

“Publicity,” Karl says simply.

“I’d rather be a nobody than have to be seen in public with _Dream_ ,” he spits out his name like it’s a curse. He still can’t believe this is happening, he’s just waiting for the moment he wakes up and finds out it’s all just a nightmare. George pinches himself. He’s not dreaming.

“I know, George, when the company told me I was just wondering what the hell they were thinking. But the deal’s been signed, no going back now.”

He wants to scream. Why the fuck did his agency not even bother discussing this with him at all? He wonders what kind of things they’ll have to do together in public, but he’s honestly too terrified to ask. They’re going to pretend to date. They’re going to have to be affectionate and intimate for the cameras. George is going to have to live with the entire world thinking that he chose to date _Dream_ of all people. He feels dizzy.

He didn’t realize when he had closed his eyes, but when he opens them again he sees Karl looking at him with a concerned expression. George shakes his head and takes a deep breath.

“So when does all of this begin? When do we have to start,” George exhales shakily, “ _dating?_ ”

Karl pulls his phone out and checks the time. “Well, you’re having dinner with him tonight at seven.”

George hangs his head in defeat, and Karl gives him a half-hearted pat on the back.

“George, you’ll be fine. It won’t last long, and it’s just for publicity. Just act all lovey-dovey in public and that’s it!” Karl claps his hands and smiles, as if those words are going to make George feel any better.

“Just text me the restaurant address, I’ve got to go contemplate my life choices until seven,” George sighs, standing up from the chair and walking out of Karl’s office. He hears him try to call out after him as he leaves, but he just tunes it out and keeps walking. He’s got other things on his mind.

••• 

George sits in the passenger seat of his chauffeur’s car, anxiously fiddling with his button down shirt, pulling the sleeves down and smoothing out the wrinkles. He’s not really sure why he’s nervous about his appearance, Dream never seems to give a shit about his own. He pulls the visor down to look at himself in the mirror, adjusting his hair carefully. He takes a deep breath as the car pulls into the parking lot of a nice upscale restaurant.

George thanks the driver and steps out of the car, preparing himself to walk inside. He feels almost sick to his stomach, and it makes him feel pathetic. He’s acting like a teenager who’s about to go on their first date, heart pounding and palms sweaty. He’s not necessarily worried about what Dream thinks about him, he’s just lightheaded at the thought of people seeing them together. In public. On a date. George fixes the collar of his blazer and walks inside.

The restaurant is nice. Really nice, actually, and it makes him wonder if his company is going to reimburse him on the bill, which he already knows is going to be expensive. George considers if Dream would offer to pay, but he quickly dismisses the thought—he honestly doubts Dream will go out of his way to be a gentleman. He goes up to the hostess and tells her his reservation, and she leads him over to an empty booth in the far corner of the room. He lets out a breath of relief when he realizes Dream hasn’t arrived yet. George thanks the hostess as she deposits two menus on the table, telling him the server would be there shortly.

George opens up the menu to look at it, but even as his eyes scan over the words, he’s not reading them. His brain is too occupied with thoughts of Dream and the situation his agency has placed him in. He wonders what the press will think of him choosing to date Dream. They’re going to be labeled the most confusing and unlikely couple of the year, he already knows it. Wild rockstar Dream and respectable actor George. Maybe they’ll be proof of the whole “opposites attract” trope.

George is still staring at the menu blankly when he’s jerked out of his thoughts by a noise. He looks up to see Dream walking over to the table, quickly sliding into his side of the booth with a scowl on his face. George wants to cry when he sees what Dream is wearing. George made an effort to dress nice for their ‘date’ considering the type of restaurant they were going to, but Dream either didn’t get the memo, or didn’t seem to care. He was wearing a wrinkled hoodie and ripped jeans, with chain necklaces dangling from his neck. His eyes were very subtly rimmed in black, it looked like he had tried to wipe off the heavy eye makeup he always wears but gave up halfway through. As he drums his fingers on the table, George can see the chipped black nail polish coating his fingernails. He looks totally out of place in the fancy restaurant, and George even notices a few people staring at him.

“Hey. What’s your name again?” Dream asks, giving him a disinterested look.

George’s head snaps back to look at Dream. “Are you serious?”

Dream laughs slightly, a kind of airy, wheezing laugh, and grins at George. “I’m kidding, don’t get so defensive, Georgie.”

George already wants to punch him in the face. “Don’t call me that,” he snaps.

“Fine, chill.” Dream holds up his hands, trying to pacify him, but he still has that arrogant grin on his face.

“I already hate this,” George says, running a hand through his hair. He can tell that Dream is going to be a pain in the ass.

Dream rolls his eyes and picks up his menu, scanning over it. George watches him carefully as he does so, studying him. He’s not unattractive, but he’s definitely not George’s type. Dream is way too cocky and full of himself, he acts like he doesn’t give a shit about anything, and George thinks that’s probably true. It has to be the reason Dream’s reputation is how it is, unstable and destructive. Dream burns bridges before he even forms them, pissing off producers, other artists, sometimes fans, too. George isn’t sure how he’s supposed to fix this guy.

“I don’t know what any of this shit means,” Dream says, scratching his head as he looks at the menu.

“Just pick something, it doesn’t matter, it’s all mediocre and overpriced.”

Dream bites his chapped lips and puts the menu down. He catches George’s eye, staring at him with an uncomfortable intensity. George’s first instinct is to look away, but he doesn’t want to give Dream the pleasure of knowing that he is getting under his skin. George stares back at his yellowy eyes smeared with black makeup. Dream’s lips quirk up in a smile as he realizes what George is doing, and he leans back in the booth and tilts his head, never breaking eye contact. George wants to wipe that infuriatingly smug look off his face, and he nearly gags when Dream winks at him.

They’re both brought out of their little game when the server clears her throat. George didn’t even realize when she had arrived, and he gets embarrassed thinking about how long she had witnessed their stupid staring contest.

“Are you two ready to order?” she asks, pulling out her little notepad and a pen.

George recites his order to her, and Dream studies the menu for a few more seconds with a confused look on his face before requesting to have the same as George. He’s obviously not used to fine dining, but George isn’t surprised. He can just picture Dream lounging around a studio with takeout boxes littering his desk as he produces. Even the thought makes George feel filthy imagining Dream’s poor cleaning habits.

“Have you been given any information on what we’ll have to be doing together during this?” George asks, folding his hands in front of him.

“No, not really. I’m guessing we’ll just have to be seen together in public, talk about each other in interviews or on social media. Or maybe the paparazzi will catch us kissing in your car,” he teases, and George scowls.

“Fat chance. I don’t want your lips anywhere near mine,” he says with a grimace.

“I’ll get you to change your mind,” Dream says with a smirk, gaze dropping down to George’s lips then back up to his eyes.

George has to look away or else he’ll throw up. He can vaguely hear Dream laughing at him, and he knows it was a joke, but it still made him feel weird. Dream is a famous rockstar, he knows he can get into practically anyone’s bed if he wants to, and George feels disgusted thinking about Dream considering him his next target. This is a business relationship, no matter how intimate they have to make it look for the public, and George will make _sure_ Dream doesn’t try anything on him.

“It was a joke,” Dream clarifies, still snickering at George’s grossed-out expression.

“You’re disgusting,” George snaps.

“Whatever, you’re gonna have to deal with me for however long this stupid deal is supposed to last.” Dream shrugs.

“I know, that’s the problem. I would appreciate it if you didn’t say weird shit.”

“Weird shit?” Dream scoffs. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“I’m full of myself? You’re the one who ruined his reputation for not giving a shit about anyone besides yourself, and now I have to help you fix it.”

George can see a fire start to burn in Dream’s eyes, and it gives him a sick sense of satisfaction to be affecting him this way. He watches as Dream clenches and unclenches his fist on the table, glaring at him.

“Fuck off, you don’t know anything about me,” Dream growls.

“Yeah, and I don’t want to, so shut up and lets get this stupid dinner over with.”

Dream deflates in his seat and turns his head, staring out into the restaurant so he doesn’t have to look at George. They both sit in silence and wait for their food to arrive, Dream picking at his chipped nail polish and George tapping his foot. The silence begins to become unbearable, and the tension in the air thickens. George’s head hurts when he remembers that he’ll have to deal with this asshole for the next few months.

Maybe he should’ve been nicer. He doesn’t like Dream, and he’s sure the feeling is mutual, but he doesn’t want this to be torture for the both of them. He should’ve tried to be more civil with Dream, but the man’s bitchy attitude makes it difficult.

“How old are you?” George asks. Dream gives him a suspicious look, as if he’s trying to find some underlying motivation for the casual small talk.

“I’m twenty-one. How old are you?”

“Twenty-four. You’re younger than I thought you would be.” It’s true, George is a little surprised that Dream is so young and already this popular, but he supposes the same can be said about himself.

“Sorry I’m not a boomer like you,” Dream says. George sighs, the attitude has returned.

Their waitress arrives with the food, and they both pick up their forks and dig in. Dream seems to be poking around at the food, hesitantly picking it up and eating it.

“I don’t know what I’m eating, but it tastes weird. Is all fancy food like this?” he asks, and George laughs.

“For someone famous, I thought you would have experienced this by now.”

“I’m not a classy actor like you, I’m a trashy singer. I drink beer and eat fast food,” he says. The word choice would seem self-deprecating, but he sounds almost proud of it. George rolls his eyes and watches him make weird faces as he eats.

Dream has pulled one leg up and is sitting with one foot on the floor and the other on the booth, posed like a child who hasn’t been taught table manners. George feels like a mother as he scolds him and tells him to put both his feet on the floor. Dream scowls and ignores him, but George gives himself a pat on the back for at least trying. He supposes this is how this entire relationship is going to be, him trying to teach Dream to be a respectable human being and make him look good to the public.

It makes him shudder to think about it, but they’re probably going to be asked to do some sort of PDA for the paparazzi. He’s gonna have to hold Dream’s hand, cuddle up next to him, maybe even _kiss_ him, just like Dream mentioned earlier. His mind wanders to what it would be like to kiss him, his eyes following the way Dream’s mouth wraps around his fork, smearing food on the corner of his lips. Disgusting, that’s what it would be like.

“If you want me to somehow fix your image you’re going to have to listen to what I say,” George points out. Dream glares at him.

“You can’t tell me shit.”

George’s blood boils. What the fuck is this guy’s problem? With Dream’s bitchy attitude and George’s impatient temper they’re going to be going at it like cats and dogs the entirety of their goddamn contract, however long it may be. Every second George has to sit here and look at Dream’s scowling face and poor posture the more he wants to forget life as a celebrity, change his identity, and move to another country. It sounds dramatic, and maybe George _is_ a little dramatic, but Dream is the epitome of someone George would never want to associate himself with, and now he is meant to date him.

“Can you at least try to be civil?” George asks, crossing his arms.

“No, maybe if I throw a big enough fit then our agencies will come to their fucking senses and call this bullshit off,” Dream spits.

George notices that a few people have started to glance over at them due to Dream’s volume and aggressiveness.

“Quiet down, will you?” he says, watching Dream’s frown etch even further into his face.

“Don’t treat me like some kid,” Dream retaliates.

George looks him up and down. He’s still sitting with one foot up on the booth, he has his elbows planted firmly on the table, and he has still yet to wipe the corner of his mouth. It’s almost funny how ironic the sentence is.

“If you don’t want me to treat you like a kid, don’t act like one.”

George spots the waitress hesitantly walking up to their table like she’s scared to interrupt their argument. He smiles politely at her and she gains the confidence to speak.

“Are you ready to pay?” she asks. George nods his head and she pulls out the check. “Will this be separate or together?”

He spares a glance at Dream, who is looking back at him with an unimpressed look on his face. He’s practically speaking to George through his eyes, saying, _You really expect me to split the bill with you?_ George fights the urge to reach across the table and punch him.

“It will be on one ticket, thank you.”

The waitress politely takes his card and walks off to process the ticket.

Dream turns to look at George with a smug look on his face. “So are you gonna be my sugar daddy?”

George pretends to gag, and Dream laughs at his pain. “I will most definitely not be doing anything like that.”

George has felt a headache creeping up on him this whole time and now it is forcefully pounding against the back of his eyes. He wonders if it will feel like this every time he is around Dream. If so, his agency will need to compensate for his therapy.

The waitress returns with George’s card and leaves him to sign the receipt. Dream watches George with disinterest as he finishes up, clicking the pen shut and laying it down on the table. They meet eyes, and George isn’t really sure what he’s supposed to say. If this were a real date that he actually wanted to go on he would probably thank him for coming to see him and say that he had a good time, maybe offer to see each other again. But as George watches Dream scowl at him and check his phone, he thinks he wouldn’t mind having to never deal with him again.

“So can I leave now?” Dream asks.

“I’m not stopping you.”

Dream takes the invitation to leave and immediately stands from his seat. He doesn’t offer a goodbye to George, he doesn’t say anything at all, actually, he just beelines straight for the door and walks out. George rolls his eyes and pulls his phone out, sending a text to his driver that he’s ready to leave. He waits for his ride, alone in the booth, and dreads the next time he’ll have to see Dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this was a little short, im still trying to get a feel of how long each chapter will be
> 
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/luckylikeyou)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, thank u everyone for the awesome feedback on the first chapter :D sorry this one is shorter, im hoping yall will bear with me for these first two chapters because they're kinda wonky. i had to go back and add/fix some stuff, but i hope the next chapter (which i am looking forward to posting) will flow better. have fun reading

George goes to bed early when he gets home from his date with Dream, just so he won’t have to deal with his conscious problems any longer than he has to. He wakes up in the afternoon, groggy and disheveled. He usually hates sleeping in that late, but he supposes that the situation with Dream exhausted him more than he realized. Today is one of his rare free days where he has no prior obligations, so he finally gets to sit down and relax.

George rolls over on his side and grabs his phone from his bedside table, turning it on and checking his notifications. He sees one text from Karl simply saying _Call me_. George’s excitement at having a day off quickly dissipates at the two word message. He sighs and dials Karl’s number.

_“Hello?”_

“Hi, Karl. What did you need?” George asks, voice still thick with sleep.

_”Hi, George! I know it’s your off day but unfortunately I have something planned for you.”_

George sighs. He knew it.

“What is it?”

 _”You’re going on another date with Dream,”_ Karl says. Before George even gets a chance to argue, Karl continues speaking. _”There’s no point in arguing, the CEO wants it and I’m just the messenger. You should consider yourself lucky that I was given the opportunity to choose what kind of date it is.”_

Oh no. Karl organized the plans? “What are we gonna be doing?” George asks, slightly scared at what he has in store.

 _”A movie date!”_ Karl says cheerfully. _”You won’t have to talk to each other, you don’t even have to look at each other, isn’t that great?”_

George is actually pleasantly surprised at Karl’s suggestion. That does sound fantastic, not having to speak to or look at Dream for over two hours. He thinks that it might not be that bad after all, until a thought pops into his mind.

“What’s the point of going on this date? We probably won’t be noticed by any paparazzi, so it can’t be for publicity,” George ponders.

 _”On the contrary, actually! You two will be taking couple pictures on your movie date,”_ Karl chirps, as if he doesn’t realize the way those words made George’s heart sink. Back to the humiliating reality of the situation.

George can’t even find it in him to complain anymore, so he just accepts defeat.

“Fine, just send me the time and place.”

••• 

George shows up to the movie theater to find Dream standing at the front entrance scrolling on his phone. He notices George walk up to him and gives him a bored look. Now that they’re standing side by side, George has suddenly realized just how tall Dream is. George’s height is pretty average, but Dream is like a skyscraper. For some reason the fact that he’s so fucking tall is getting on George’s nerves.

“Hey. Do you know what movie you wanna watch?” Dream asks as they walk inside the theater.

George peers at all the movies and times listed on the screen behind the counter. One movie catches his eye, a horror movie that was released recently and had received some bad reviews. George has been wanting to watch it just to form his own opinion on it and see if it’s actually as bad as people say it is.

“Let’s watch the horror movie,” George says, noticing the way Dream stiffens next to him. A smile quirks up the corner of George’s mouth. Is Dream scared of horror movies?

Dream doesn’t try to protest, so George proceeds with buying tickets for the both of them (his brain nagging him the whole time about how Dream called him a sugar daddy the previous night). Dream pesters him to buy popcorn as well, so George buys some with a roll of his eyes. Dream happily takes the bucket of popcorn from the cashier and walks to the theater.

The tickets they reserved were for a matinee showing (to avoid the large crows at night showings) so there were hardly any people in the theater at all. George spotted a couple in the top right corner and a group of a few young men snickering to each other about who will get scared by the movie. Dream and George find a spot in roughly the center, sitting down next to each other and getting settled. Dream instantly starts eating the popcorn, getting his fingers all greasy with the butter. George takes a handful of popcorn for himself then shoves a napkin into Dream’s hand so he can clean his fingers. George watches in horror as Dream instead puts his butter-covered fingers into his mouth and licks them clean.

“You’re so gross. You better wipe your hands before you touch any more of the popcorn,” George demands, frowning at the way that Dream starts laughing at him.

Dream goes to clean his last finger and instead of putting it in his mouth, he sticks his tongue out to lick the butter off. George’s brain short circuits when he sees a silver sphere sitting in the center of Dream’s tongue. The dim light of the movie theater glints off the metal, drawing George’s attention.

“You have a tongue piercing?” George asks, as if the answer isn’t staring right at him.

“Yeah, I got it pierced a few months ago,” Dream informs him, _finally_ wiping his fingers properly with a napkin.

George isn’t sure how the information makes him feel. Dream’s ears are pierced to no end, stacked with studs and hoops in the grooves of both of his ears, but he never really expected his tongue to be pierced, too. George vividly remembers a boyfriend he had in college that had a tongue piercing, and he quickly has to break his gaze away from the metal in Dream’s mouth.

“Why, do you think it’s hot?” Dream asks, ever the arrogant bastard.

George scoffs and turns his head so he doesn’t have to look at him anymore, facing forward and staring at the previews displayed on the movie screen. “You wish,” he mutters.

Dream doesn’t get a chance to say anything because the lights suddenly dim and the previews end, indicating the start of the movie. George sits back in his seat and waits for the movie to begin.

George has never been one to get scared by horror movies. Sure, the jumpscares get him sometimes, but he usually has too many critiques on the acting in the film to actually find himself immersed in the story. That’s one of the flaws of being a professional actor; you can tell when someone is doing a shitty job at acting, and once you notice, it’s all you see for the rest of the film. Judging by the reviews on this particular movie, he gets the feeling that he will be critiquing the acting in his head the entire time.

As the movie slowly progresses into the introduction, George can see that it’s nothing really special. The storyline is subpar and the child-singing-a-nursery-rhyme-in-a-spooky-manner trope is corny as hell. George can tell why it received bad reviews, the actors are doing a pretty shoddy job.

George vaguely notices that Dream has gone still, no longer shoveling popcorn into his mouth at a concerningly fast rate. He spares a glance over at Dream’s face. Illuminated in the low light of the movie screen, he looks uncomfortable, a grimace etching frown lines into his face.

He turns his head back to look at the screen just in time to catch a jumpscare popping out on the screen. George flinches slightly, but he feels Dream jump violently in his seat at the jumpscare. George resists the urge to laugh at how Dream is so obviously scared by this shitty horror movie.

“You good?” George whispers, trying to keep the patronizing tone out of his words. It’s amusing seeing Dream like this.

Dream shoots him a glare. “I’m fine,” he replies.

He’s actually not fine, George quickly learns, as he notices Dream flinch at every scary moment in the film. Dream could have refused to watch the film and George wouldn’t have minded, but he has a suspicion that Dream didn’t want to tarnish his appearance as an unbothered bad boy by admitting to George that he doesn’t like scary movies. George has to hide the kick that he’s getting out of seeing an intimidating six foot tall man dressed in all black with chains and rings on getting scared at a low quality horror movie. It’s kind of satisfying watching Dream’s facade crack like this.

George wonders how much of Dream’s personality is for the cameras. Is he seriously the arrogant, cocky person that he makes himself out to be? It has to be exhausting to be the way that Dream is, defensive with no filter, but he acts like he doesn’t give a shit what people think about him. It makes George wonder if that is true, if he really is so unbothered by everything. If it is an act, he considers what Dream is like when his persona is turned off. It’s hard to picture him being a normal person, but in this moment with Dream shivering next to him from a stupid horror movie, George thinks he might get a glimpse of that.

“Shit,” Dream swears under his breath as he flinches at a loud jumpscare.

“Calm down,” George whispers to him. Dream shoots him a dirty look.

The scary moments only seem to amp up during the climax of the movie, and they even begin to get under George’s skin a little bit. The next time he looks over at Dream, the man’s eyes are shut completely as he lowers his head and grips onto the armrests tightly. As the intense parts die down and the film trails into the final conclusions to the story, George nudges Dream’s arm.

“You can open your eyes now,” he whispers.

Dream cracks one eye open to peer at the screen carefully, then opens the other one. He relaxes in his seat when he realizes the intense parts are over. He can still tell that Dream is pretty tense and he stays that way until the credits finally roll. The lights in the theater turn back on, and the occupants stand up to leave.

George checks his phone quickly and spots a text from Karl.

**Karl**  
_Don’t forget that you have to take those pictures of you and Dream  
And upload them_

George groans. He had almost forgotten about that. He turns to Dream who is gathering the crumpled up napkins and his empty popcorn bucket.

“Hey, my manager told me we have to take pictures together on our…” George hesitates, “date.”

Dream rolls his eyes. “This is some bullshit. I just want to leave,” he sighs.

It is bullshit, but that’s what they get for being in the spotlight. Despite how different they are, Dream and George are both pawns for their companies to play with to get more attention, more publicity, more money. Fame is a blessing and a curse, and during these moments, George is reminded of the negative aspects.

They gather up their trash and exit the theater, tossing it into the trash can next to the door. Dream turns to George.

“So where are we supposed to take these pictures?”

George contemplates for a second. They could take a selfie in the theater, but that’s cheesy. He also considers taking a picture of their hands linked together, but that’s even worse. The only good idea he can think of is taking mirror selfies in the cinema’s restroom.

“Follow me, we’ll take a picture in the mirror,” George says and leads Dream to the men’s restroom.

He begins to feel sick for some unknown reason, anxiety clawing up his insides. Dream follows behind him like a lost puppy as they walk into the restroom together. Thankfully, there’s no one else in the room, so they can take their humiliating pictures together in private. George stands in front of the mirror and pulls out his phone.

“How are we going to pose?” Dream asks, and George thinks he sounds a little nervous. It’s almost relieving.

“Um, stand next to me and, like,” his voice quietens in embarrassment, “put your arm around my shoulder.”

Dream hesitantly sidles up next to him and slings an arm around his shoulder, but he keeps a good couple of inches between their bodies. The pose looks awfully stiff.

“We need to look like we actually like each other, get closer,” George complains.

Dream uncomfortably shifts until their sides are pressed flush together, and he slightly leans over George. Looking in the mirror, he can see all the contrasts between them. Their height, their clothes, even the way they stand, it’s all different. Opposites attract, George reminds himself.

“Relax, you look like a fucking mannequin,” he instructs, and Dream’s body relaxes into his. George can feel the warmth coming from Dream, and it’s almost suffocating. His entire right side is burning where Dream is touching him, invasive and uncomfortable.

George opens his camera app and holds his phone up, positioning it so he can get just the right angle of them posing together in the mirror. He taps the screen to focus on their bodies, and then takes a picture. The shutter sound effect clicks in the silent bathroom, and he takes a few more for good measure. As soon as the photos are taken, Dream immediately lets go of George and steps away like he got burned.

George goes to his camera roll and studies the photo. It looks good, if he’s being honest. The lighting in the bathroom is dim but atmospheric, and their pose looks pretty natural. Dream’s head is tilted so his jawline is visible, and George is comfortably tucked under his arm. It’s not overtly romantic, but they couldn’t be mistaken as just two friends. George exhales shakily and opens his Instagram app. He goes to make a new post, and selects the image of the two of them.

“What do I put as the caption?” he asks, looking up at Dream for advice. He peers down at George’s phone, his eyes scanning over the photo of the both of them.

“Just put a smiley face. And tag me.”

Of course, the smiley face is Dream’s whole brand, isn’t it? He does as Dream requests and types in a colon and a parenthesis, then tags his account in the photo. With shaky fingers, he carefully presses the post button. He immediately locks his phone and stuffs it back into his pocket, making Dream look at him quizzically.

“I can’t look at the post or else I’ll feel sick,” George explains. He knows if he reads the hundreds of comments that will come flooding in, he’s going to have a panic attack. Just thinking about what the public will have to say about the two of them together is terrifying.

“I didn’t realize I was that repulsive,” Dream mutters, walking out of the restroom. George doesn’t bother clarifying what he meant, he just lets Dream leave.

••• 

George doesn’t check Instagram until he’s finally home. He takes a long shower to try and put it off as long as possible, but once he dries off and changes into pajamas, he has to face the reality of what he did. George crawls under the safety of his covers and unlocks his phone, swiping along the homescreen to get to Instagram.

As soon as he opens the app, he sees the hundreds of comments in his notifications, and it makes a lump rise in his throat. He swallows it down and shakily taps on the notification tab. He is greeted with a plethora of comments underneath his most recent post, and he carefully swipes through them.

_Is this photoshop?? no way_

_This has to be some kind of prank, right?_

_OMG you’re so cute together!!!_

_Weirdest couple of the century_

Dozens of similar comments fill George’s screen. Lots of disbelief and suspicion, which they have the right to have, considering that the relationship isn’t even real. But some of the commenters seem to be ecstatic over this new couple, saying that they look good together and asking for even more photos. George has such mixed feelings about this, he doesn’t even know what to do. His phone suddenly buzzes with a text from Wilbur, one of his close actor friends.

**Wilbur**  
_Am I going crazy or did you post a picture of yourself cuddled up next to Dream?_

George groans and shuts his eyes. He’s not sure if he’s allowed to tell Wilbur the truth, but it would be utterly humiliating for him to think that George actually likes Dream. Wilbur knows him, and he knows that George would never choose to date someone like Dream.

**George**  
_I had to  
Stupid fucking agency is making me pretend to date Dream for publicity_

Wilbur doesn’t respond for a moment, and George can practically hear him cackling at his pain in his head.

**Wilbur**  
_I don’t know whether to laugh or feel bad for you_

George doesn’t bother responding to him, he just closes his messaging app and goes back to his homescreen, staring blankly at it until the screen goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/luckylikeyou)


End file.
